


A Little Eggnog Goes a Long Way

by xxMOONLITsky



Category: National Treasure (2004), National Treasure Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxMOONLITsky/pseuds/xxMOONLITsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the annual "Gates-Poole Christmas Party", and anyone who's anyone will be there. There will be eggnog...lots of eggnog. Enjoy the party!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Eggnog Goes a Long Way

White. In the trees, on top of fence posts, sticking to the windshields of cars; it was everywhere one looked. The snow had begun falling gently in the early morning hours long before the sun crossed the horizon, and by the time people began to wake up, they were met with a winter wonderland. Earlier in the week, the papers had predicted rain for Christmas Eve; the odds of a white Christmas in Washington D.C. were slim to none. Now, however, headlines across the board, both on television and in print, were blaming the backdoor cold front that had stalled above the nation's capital for this sudden change in weather. Most people weren't complaining; after all, snow on Christmas had always added that little touch of magic that made the holiday all the more special. However, it certainly was making travelling difficult.

As with every Christmas Eve, the roads were crowded beyond belief; people never seemed to learn that if one wanted to make it to see the family on time, they would have to leave early. It was tradition to spend time with one's family on Christmas. Everyone celebrated in their own special way: some would get together at a nice restaurant and have dinner, others would make a large home cooked meal to share with relatives. For Benjamin Gates and Riley Poole, they preferred the latter. The two had hosted the "Gates-Poole Christmas Party" for the past three years running (ever since becoming 'official'), and didn't seem to have any desire to stop what had become their own personal Christmas tradition.

Unlike the outdoors, where the only sound heard was the wind softly blowing the snow, the kitchen of the Gates manor was teeming with life. The kitchen itself was painted in earthy shades of browns and greens, but despite the olden look the colors gave, the technology present told a different story. The 40" television, which took up most of the left wall, was currently broadcasting Mythbusters to the room; Jamie and Adam were trying to discern whether or not a shark could be blown up, using a tank of compressed air, like the characters did in Jaws. Riley, as he normally was when Mythbusters was on, was sitting at the kitchen table with a bag of potato chips, eyes glued to the screen. He was completely oblivious to the chaos occurring near the stove, otherwise known as Abigail and Ben trying to cook dinner. (Abigail and Ben both knew how to cook very well; it was when they were trying to cook at the  _same time_  that the problems began.) The funny thing about the chaos in the kitchen was that the food the two were preparing wasn't even really  _difficult_. Tradition held that the party itself was more of a mixer than a sit-down dinner, which meant that the only things served were salads and different types of finger foods, such as chicken nuggets, pigs in a blanket, and little tiny sandwiches. However, despite being little foods, they still required preparation, and it was over these that Abigail and Ben were quibbling.

"You're making those sandwiches too small. They're supposed to be finger food, not mouse food," Abigail said, shooting one of her patented 'looks' in Ben's direction.

Ben rolled his eyes as he continued to cut pieces of white bread into quarters. He sighed, gazing around the room as he cut the tiny white pieces of fluff. He had been standing at the counter for the past hour (Abigail had been there longer) making these tiny sandwiches, and the sad part was, he hadn't even gotten around to cutting the meat yet. He was still on the bread, believe it or not. The first half an hour had gone by fairly quickly, with Ben's attention focused on the bread and the bread alone. By forty-five minutes into the task, Ben's mind (and therefore, his gaze) had begun to wander, straying away from the bread and knife in his hands. He kept looking at the clock on the wall, hoping that Abigail would soon tell him that he could stop cutting these silly little slices of bread that he was  _sure_  nobody was going to eat. However, most of the time his gaze rested on Riley, who had originally sat down at the table as Ben was entering the kitchen to begin his task.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Abi tapped him on the shoulder and nodded, signaling that he had cut enough bread and could ( _finally_ ) move onto the meat. She, herself, was putting together some kind of salad, one that included some types of spices that Ben himself had never seen before. Suddenly, the trance all three had been in was broken as the doorbell rang. Everyone stopped their motions; even Riley, who had been ignorant to the world for the past hour, looked up from the television.

"I'll get it," Riley said, a sparkle in his eyes that Ben couldn't quite place the reason for.

Riley quickly bounded out of sight, and Ben's eyes found themselves looking once more at the cutting board under his hands. He started, however, when he noticed that the sandwich that had been sitting there twenty seconds ago was now missing. Grinning, he chuckled to himself, instantly knowing why Riley's eyes had been sparkling.

_'Speak of the devil,'_  Ben thought to himself as he watched Riley re-enter the kitchen, the mail in his hands and a grin on his face.

"What?" he asked, eyes sparkling in Ben's direction.

"Nothing, Riley, nothing," Ben said, returning the gesture.

Abigail looked up from the salad she was making, glancing back and forth between the two men in the kitchen. Finally, after determining that whatever had occurred between them had to be something childish, she turned back to making her salad. After all, the fast one worked, the faster one finished.

Four hours later, the food had finished being made, the buffet table had been set out in the living room, and things were just about ready to go. Ben had just left the room, heading upstairs to change; Abigail was trying (and failing) to get Riley to do the same.

"It's a  _Christmas party_ , Riley," she said, eyes glinting in the light from the fireplace. "You're supposed to look  _nice_."

"I  _do_  look nice," Riley pouted back. "Just ask Ben."

Abigail rolled her eyes. How had she known that he was going to play that card? Ben  _always_  said Riley looked nice, just based upon the fact that the two were a couple. Like he would honestly tell Riley that he looked a mess and thought he should change clothes…

_'Well,_ ' Abigail thought as she poured eggnog out of the bottle and into small glasses,  _'he wouldn't if he wanted to keep on Riley's good side. God only knows what happened last time Riley withheld sex from Ben. Those poor McDonald's workers will never be the same…'_

Abigail chuckled to herself as she continued pouring the eggnog. It was the last thing to go out onto the buffet table before the guests began arriving (which they should in about ten minutes or so). Turning her eyes away from the eggnog and back onto Riley, who was now watching the snow fall out the window, she spoke.

"Riley,  _go change_."

"No," came the stubborn reply.

" _Riley_ …"

"He's fine, Abi."

Ben spoke as he was walked down the main staircase and into the living room. His gaze shifted from Riley to Abigail, matching the glare that was coming his way with raised eyebrows and a puzzled expression.

"What's wrong with what he's wearing?"

Abigail turned so that she was facing the techie, who was still looking out the window at the falling snow. He was dressed in a nice white shirt with brown pullover jacket and blue jeans, completing the ensemble with his favorite pair of shoes: his falling-apart-at-the-seams, I-wear-them-everywhere, black Converses. She sighed, knowing Ben was probably right. There was just something about the fact that she was wearing a semi-fancy dress and he was wearing a jacket and jeans that bothered her. Sighing again, she turned back to Ben. Ben matched Riley almost to the letter: blue jeans, tan shirt and blue jean jacket. The only thing that was different was the shoes – he had chosen his normal everyday shoes. (Riley had been bugging him to buy a pair of Converses for the longest time, but so far, Riley hadn't gained any ground on that fight.)

"Nothing, I suppose," she replied finally. "I was just hoping that you two might dress up a bit."

"We did," Riley said, finally turning away from the window and looking at Ben and Abigail. "I'm not wearing my normal band tee, am I?"

Abigail frowned at this comment, and Ben did his very best not to smile. After all, if he did, Abigail would accuse him of siding with Riley just because the two of them were a pair, and then they'd  _both_  be in trouble. God knew he didn't want  _that._  An unhappy Abigail, especially right before a party where she could possibly put them to work, was certainly not a good thing. Ben, trying to side with Riley but at the same time not letting Abigail know, walked over to his companion, put an arm around him, and began steering him into the kitchen.

"What?" Riley asked as Ben steered him into the kitchen. "What did I do?"

As soon as they were fully into the room, Riley stopped letting Ben walk him any further. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now. Grabbing a small cup of eggnog off the counter, he downed it in one gulp before speaking again.

"And what's with you siding with Abi all of a sudden, hmm?" Riley's eyes glinted dangerously, the light coming from the ceiling above. "Suddenly she's right all of the time?"

"Ri, I didn't side with her," Ben said, taking a step towards his comrade, only to have the latter grab another cup of eggnog and take a step back. "And she's  _not_ right all the time."

Riley downed his second drink (he was taking them like shots, rather than enjoying them), looking at Ben with increasingly bright eyes.

"Then why didn't you defend me back there?"

Ben sighed. He could tell that Riley still hadn't gotten over his fear; when the two first became a couple, Riley had admitted to Ben that he was afraid that Ben was going to leave him for Abigail. Ben had explained that that wasn't possible, he wasn't in love with Abigail, but Riley still felt nervous. Some part of Ben thought that Riley might not ever get over the fear; he was oddly possessive for a little squirt, but he was  _Ben's_  little squirt, so that was that. Ben also knew that the two glasses of eggnog that Riley had downed certainly weren't helping his brain function. Normally, the two of them would have laughed this argument off already (after all, there was no argument to begin with), but because of Riley's current state of mind, Ben didn't think that was going to happen anytime soon. He opened his mouth to apologize to Riley (because maybe that would make Riley think the argument was over) but was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Riley's face lit up with a smile, and before Ben could even say that he would get the door, Riley had darted out of sight.

"I GOT IT!!!!"

Ben sighed again. Looking at Abigail, who had just walked back into the room, he smiled. It was going to be a  _long_  night.

There was silence in the kitchen; Ben had walked over to where Abigail was cutting vegetables and stole a carrot. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of the knife colliding with the cutting board as she continued to cut the mixture for her salad. Suddenly, that peaceful quiet was broken as Riley shouted in from the foyer.

"Uh, BEN?"

Ben rolled his eyes at Abigail, who had looked up and was giggling silently into the hand that wasn't holding the knife.

"Yes, Riley?" he called from the kitchen, stealing another carrot while Abigail tried to look around the corner into the foyer.

"The- the FBI guy's here…and I don't know what he wants."

Ben, who was munching on his third carrot by this point, moved from his spot by the veggies and quickly headed into the foyer. Riley was standing in front of Andrew Sadusky, another glass of eggnog in his hand, looking utterly bewildered as to  _why_  the man from the FBI would be on Ben's porch. Whirling around on the spot at the sound of footsteps, Riley found Ben standing directly behind him. Ben's hands grabbed his shoulders, steadying the younger techie from falling as he wavered on his feet. Riley, finally standing by himself, gulped down the last of his eggnog, nodding to Sadusky before he headed off in the direction of the kitchen.

"His book was good, if you were ever going to read it," Sadusky said, a twinkle in his eye.

"It was; I read it after we discovered Cibola," Ben replied, smiling at the older man. "I just hadn't had time before. Believe me, it lead to interesting conversations, to say the least."

Ben smiled again, his eyes sparkling with the message behind the words. He gestured inside with his free hand (the other was holding the door open) as Sadusky walked past. Shutting the door behind the Head of the FBI, he pointed toward the living room, in which all of the food was set up. The older man was silent, taking in the empty room in front of him. Noise from the kitchen permeated the room in which they stood; both men could hear Riley babbling happily to Abigail as he occasionally took a cucumber off the cutting board.

"So, Sadusky – " Ben began, but was cut off as the FBI agent held up a hand, the other one grabbing a small cup of eggnog off the table in front of the two men.

"Andrew, please. As long as I'm not after you about something, there's no reason we can't be on first name terms."

Sadusky smiled, and Ben matched his grin, eyes sparkling in the firelight.

"So,  _Andrew_ , how's being the Head of the FBI treating you? You like the new position?"

Andrew took a sip of eggnog and smiled, somehow knowing that question was going to be one of the first out of Ben Gates's mouth. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Riley, who sauntered back into the room, another cup of eggnog in his hand. Ben, by this point, had seen him consume three, but that didn't account for the one currently in his hand, or however many he may have had while in the kitchen with Abigail.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeey, Ben," Riley said, grinning, his eyes oddly bright. "What's uuuuuuuuuuup?"

Sadusky did his best to hide his laughter behind his cup of eggnog, while Ben just grinned, looking at his younger companion. It was  _obvious_  that the latter was drunk off his ass, and for Ben, that (normally) meant good things. However, having a drunk, I-can't-keep-my-hands-to-myself Riley in the middle of a public party wasn't a good thing. Ben, glancing at Sadusky, whose eyes were gleaming in his laughter, excused himself and began dragging Riley towards the kitchen. During the walk, the two passed Abigail, who was bringing the bowl of salad out to the table; Ben saw her engage Sadusky in conversation, and soon the two were chatting animatedly.

Ben managed to steer Riley into a kitchen chair, but the young techie didn't stay there for long. As a matter of fact, he sat there for all of about five seconds before getting up and walking towards where Ben stood on the other side of the counter, trying to get a glass out of the cabinet.

"Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen," Riley said knowingly, grinning profusely as his older companion turned to face him.

"You're drunk," Ben said plainly, without preamble.

"Nah," Riley replied, running his left hand (the one without the eggnog) across Ben's cheek. "I haven't had that many."

"At least four."

"Six, but that's less than four, so no big deal," Riley replied, grinning.

Ben rolled his eyes, but at the same time, smiling. When Riley got to the 'I-can't-do-math' stage, that generally was the signal for him to stop drinking. It also signaled that he was going to wake up the next morning with a  _wicked_  headache, leaving Ben to pick up the pieces. On nights like those – or this one – Ben never let Riley out of his sight. A drunken Riley was a very destructive Riley, whether it was intentional or not.

Ben, while Riley had been staring at him incessantly, had walked over to the faucet and filled the glass he had grabbed out of the cabinet with water. He then had walked over to the counter by the microwave and grabbed two aspirin out of the bottle. Riley was going to need them, and anything he could do to dissuade the headache that was sure to come over the techie like a hurricane hitting Florida was a good thing. Sighing heavily, Ben turned to the younger man, holding out the glass of water and the aspirin.

"Here. Take these, and drink the whole glass."

"But I'm not thirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrsssssssssssssssssssssssty," Riley replied, dragging out the word as long as he possibly could. "Plus, I still have some eggnog. Good stuff, that."

Riley had held up the glass in Ben's direction, almost as if he was giving a toast at an invisible wedding. Ben, seeing the opportunity and not about to let it pass, grabbed the glass out of Riley's hand before the younger man had realized what had happened. Ten seconds later, Riley realized the glass was gone.

"Hey!" he protested, bright eyes conveying anger rather than desire now.

"You've had too many, and you're already going to feel like shit in the morning. I'm not letting you have another."

"But –"

Riley began to protest once more – after all, he wasn't about to let Ben have his eggnog; that's why it was  _his_  eggnog – when Ben leaned down and kissed him swiftly. All troubles forgotten, Riley reached up and entwined his hands in the older man's hair, losing himself in the moment. After about thirty seconds or so, Ben broke away, eyes twinkling mischievously. He then made a show of downing what was left in Riley's glass of eggnog. Riley opened his mouth to complain (again), but Ben raised his eyebrows, a gesture that said ' _If you want more of where that came from, you won't say anything at all.'_  Riley, nodding, remained silent and took the glass from Ben's hand. Putting the pills in his mouth, he swallowed them with a small mouthful of water, and then proceeded to drain the glass in the next twenty seconds.

Ben grinned. It was amazing how compliant Riley was when he was drunk. He was so easy to mold to Ben's wishes, it wasn't even funny.

_'At least,'_  Ben thought to himself,  _'I'm not using him for anything I shouldn't. After all, he's a more than willing participant in all of our…activities.'_

Ben grinned again, partially blushing behind his glasses. When Riley was drunk, he got…creative. Creative was good,  _very good_. Whatever the case was, he was going to have to look after the younger man until the effects of the alcohol wore off, which probably wouldn't happen until sometime tomorrow, after he had slept it off.

Walking a couple of paces towards the kitchen's entrance so that he was even with the fridge, Ben made to peer around the wall, trying to look at what was going on in the living room. Abigail had let quite a few more people inside since he had disappeared into the kitchen; he could hear them talking animatedly from his position in the doorway. However, his head never made it around the corner of the wall. Riley, in some feat of unnatural strength that only came with being drunk, spun Ben around on the spot, pinning him against the refrigerator. Eyebrows raised, Ben spoke.

"Do you think this is gonna get you another cup of eggnog, Riley?"

"No. I don't want the eggnog anymore," Riley replied in all seriousness. "I want  _you_."

With that last spoken thought, Riley attacked Ben's mouth with a ferocity not yet seen tonight. Hands instantly entwining themselves in Ben's hair once more, Riley pushed himself shamelessly against the treasure hunter. Ben's hands found purchase on Riley's hips, helping as the younger man ground himself into Ben. The two were so engrossed in their current activity that they didn't see [Abigail's 'Stan' from the National Archives round the corner, stop (when he saw what was going on), and then head back out into the living room, blushing. Thirty seconds later, the two broke apart, the only thing keeping them from continuing was the need for air. Both were panting heavily, eyes bright (and not necessarily from the eggnog), and grinning.

Ben's right hand left Riley's hip (the other one was still rubbing small circles on the opposite hip) and was brought up to ruffle the younger man's hair. Standing there, with the young techie in front of him, Benjamin Franklin Gates knew exactly how lucky he was. He had found not one, but  _two_  national treasures, been places that not many normal civilians had visited (like Buckingham Palace and the Oval Office), and had fallen in love. Standing there, he felt like the luckiest guy on earth.

Riley smiled as Ben ruffled his hair. Ever since first meeting him that day when Ben had made his trip to the Library of Congress with Ian, Riley had known that there was something special about Ben Gates. He wasn't the kook that everyone said he was; he wasn't the treasure hunter just after the prize. He was after the historical importance of the clues, after the  _meaning_  of his search. From that very first moment together, Riley had admired the older man. That admiration, over the search for two treasures, had grown into respect, and eventually love. It had been the best day in the world when Riley Poole had realized that Ben Gates loved him back. (Not so much for Abigail, seeing as it was her wedding they had crashed, but she had grown to understand.) Ever since that fateful day, there had been nothing but joy. Riley was happy, and that was all that mattered.

Riley smiled at Ben again, at the same time leaning in to kiss him again. This time, however, the kiss was meant to convey a different message.  _'I want you so badly it hurts'_  had become  _'I love you and I'll never let you go.'_ Ben kissed back with equal passion and love, trying to convey the same message in return. Riley's right hand had slipped into Ben's back left pocket of his jeans, grabbing onto the material like it was his last link to the physical earth around him. Ben had felt the hand skirt down around the edges of his jeans, finally landing in his pocket, and it had made him smile. Sometimes, much like this one, Ben could tell that these small gestures (that most people would find adorable) were much more functional than sentimental. Riley was using them to reassure himself that Ben really wasn't going anywhere, wasn't going to leave him for Abigail. No matter how much Ben told Riley again and again that he'd never leave, the young techie still had some doubts.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Ben noticed how much Riley was swaying on his feet. It seemed that those six (according to the techie himself – god knows how many he  _actually_ had) eggnogs were finally catching up to him. Smiling down at the younger man, Ben spoke.

"You feeling okay, Ri?"

Riley pulled himself out of his own thoughts, an action that looked like it took an awful lot of effort. Smiling bemusedly up at Ben, he spoke, the slurring in his words counteracting what he was actually saying.

"'M fine, Ben. You're just bein'….over…over…what's the word that goes here?"

"Overprotective?" Ben asked, grinning.

"Yeah, that's the one," Riley replied, nodding vigorously, then stopping quickly with a pained expression on his face. "Note to self: don't shake your head. It huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurts."

Ben smiled, then swept the techie up into a hug. He hadn't meant to; he had actually meant to ask if Riley wanted to go talk to Abigail in the living room. However, sometimes the things Riley said or did were just so cute that Ben couldn't help himself. Ben felt Riley smile into his chest (that was about how high he could reach without standing on tiptoes), which made Ben himself smile. Pulling the younger man so that he was at arm's length, Ben spoke.

"So, what's say we go talk with people in the living room for a while, hmm?"

"But Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen," Riley replied, burrowing himself back into Ben's chest. "I don't wanna."

"We have to, Riley. You know that. After all, it is  _our_  party."

Ben felt Riley smile again, bringing yet another smile to his own fact. The action made him wonder what he would do without the techie. It was a question that he didn't have an answer to, and one for which he didn't  _want_  the answer.

"I don't wanna talk to a bunch of stiffs," Riley mumbled into Ben's shirt.

Ben laughed. Trust Riley to think that their part was like all the rest they'd been to, including the one Ben had crashed at the National Archives while trying to steal the Declaration of Independence.

"They're not a bunch of stiffs, and we only have to make an appearance. After all, it is almost," Ben looked at his watch, "eleven o'clock. People will be heading home to their own family's houses for Christmas Day."

Riley sighed and looked up at Ben with a look that plainly said,  _'Do we_ really  _have to?'_  Ben laughed in response to this look; there was something about getting Riley drunk that made him even more childish than he normally was. On some days, it would have bothered Ben; after all, there was enough going on that Ben had to handle that he should have been doing and  _wasn't_ because of Riley, but today… today he didn't mind one bit.

"Look, Ri – fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes and then you have me all to yourself," Ben said, grinning down at the younger man. "I'll even throw in some more eggnog if you want it."

"Only if you're wearing it," Riley replied cheekily before racing out of the room , heading for the living room where everyone else was gathered.

Ben grinned and shook his head. That kid was going to be the death of him.

_'But,'_  the voice in Ben's mind reasoned,  _'there are many worse ways to die…'_

Grinning again, Ben headed out of the kitchen and into the living room…only to run smack-dab into Riley, who was standing on the threshold between the two rooms. Looking down, Ben noticed that the techie was staring at something across the room. Following Riley's gaze, he found Abigail and Sadusky in the same chair, hands all over one another. Eyebrows raised in shock, Ben looked down at Riley. Riley was looking up at him, and expression that said,  _'I'm scarred for life,'_  written all over his face.

"Uh, Ben…I don't wanna go in there."

Ben smiled. Abigail and Sadusky? They made an interesting pair, that was for sure, but when Ben actually thought about it, they were well suited for one another. Both had a passion for history that spanned thousands of years, both held positions of high esteem within the US Government, and both loved what they did. (Both had also been involved in the hunt for both national treasures, but that was another story altogether.) Cracking one of Riley's patented half-smiles, Ben tapped the techie on the shoulder and gestured for him to follow. Quietly, Ben led Riley into the kitchen, smiling the whole way. Turning on the television with the flick of a remote, Ben turned to Riley.

"So, you're not the only one that had a little too much eggnog tonight, eh, Ri?"

Riley managed to glare at Ben for all of five seconds before cracking up hysterically. He was laughing so hard, in fact, that he had to grab onto the counter to keep him standing; tears were also streaming down his cheeks. Finally, after about two minutes of this, Riley straightened up, looking Ben straight in the eye. Ben cocked his head to one side, raised his eyebrows, and looked at his younger companion quizzically.

"Well, if I've had a little too much eggnog, what're you gonna do about it?"

Riley's eyes gleamed brightly, partially because of the eggnog and partially because of the implication behind the question. Grinning, he wiggled his eyebrows in Ben's direction, at the same time grabbing another glass of eggnog of the counter and throwing it back like a shot, exactly like he had the first two.

Ben, quickly glancing around the kitchen and throwing an eye around the corning into the living room, grinned as he faced his younger companion. Leaning down, he whispered something in Riley's ear that made a blush creep across his entire face in less than twenty seconds. Eyes widening, Riley darted out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the master bedroom with Ben hot on his heels. After all, Christmas meant something different to everybody. To Ben Gates and Riley Poole, it meant spending some quality time together while Abigail and Sadusky shepherded everybody else home.


End file.
